


Curses

by NeKo_Chan13



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Different view of the world, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hello yes hi this is happening, I really don't know how to tag ngl, I wrote the teaser at like 1 am last night and my friends loved it so I guess this is happening now, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Swearing, Willow just want to be happy, Wilson's a nerd, Witch AU, alternative universe, cause yeah, idk - Freeform, witch willow, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeKo_Chan13/pseuds/NeKo_Chan13
Summary: She was living her last days. Locked away in a cold prison underground.Willow knew she shouldn't have done this, now she had been capture and was going to die for only being herself.Well not really being herself, more like being born a witch, as if she had a choice.She was unlucky and this world wasn't fair.----He was a curious scientist. Instead of seeing witches as something that needed to be destroyed, he saw them as perfect test subject to allowed humanity to advance faster.Wilson wanted to change de world.So when he saw her, standing unharmed in the flames, he knew this was his chance.He was going to change the world.
Relationships: Willow/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	1. Burn the Witch

**Author's Note:**

> Song that inspired the title of this chapter cause yeah
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNd4sL1OpcE

She has been dumb.

She knows it.

Willow was taking sight of her little hutch for the last time, as they dragged her away from the place that she called home.

She had nothing to say. Too shocked by what happened.

They took her, and as the order was giving, the only place she felt safe in went ablaze.

Left empty, she climbed in the carriage next to the two officers, they closed the door, and took off.

The cabin burned all night, taking with it the near by trees. After four days, all you could see from the horizon was the small remains of a house, once cozy and safe and the little forest that surrounded it, left, forever painted with black.

~~~

2 weeks, Willow couldn’t stand it anymore. Especially when you’re given only bread and occasionally dry meat as hard as a rock to eat. Water wasn’t a problem; this place was leaking with it. If you were willing to ignore where the water was actually coming from, you could survive.

Alone in her small jail cell, sitting on the cold, wet stone floor, she picked at the hay that served as a bed.

Dressed in a simple white shirt and skirt, she shivered. Bare feet, Willow curled a little more over herself. Her hair where tired in their usual pig tails, but they where looser than they were supposed to. The young lady really didn’t feel like taking care of herself in this place anyway.

This place was everything that she hated.

No light.

No wind.

No fire.

Nothing.

They’d took everything that belonged to her.

They’d burn her house down, and before, they took the “evidence” for her trial. As if they needed some…

A part of her felt like she only deserved what she was receiving. After all, witch trials where common practice since the beginning of humanity, plenty of women and men have been killed for being accused of witchcraft. It wasn’t new, even if most of the time, the people killed were innocent, in the last century or so, the people started to be more and more scared of witchcraft. Why? They were supposedly associated with Satan. As if. Willow may not have high standards, but she wouldn’t make a deal with the devil for some cheap magic. He’s an asshole anyway with unworthy deals.

Being a witch wasn’t a choice, and They couldn’t seem to understand that. Yes, you could choose to be practice witchcraft or not, but the magic inside you wouldn’t go away, it can’t leave you, strange things would happen around you either way. Not bad thing per say, but strange enough to be treated like a monster.  
  
Willow didn’t wanted to have magic, all that it had caused her was hurt others and being rejected, but she grew used to it and now embraced it fully. Though, locked away in this tiny prison, so close to freedom, yet impossibly far, she just hoped for it to be over soon. It’s not like she had a place to go anymore. Maybe, if she was lucky enough, after the execution, she could se her grandmother again, who knows.

Footsteps were approaching her cell, she didn’t budge, trying to make herself as small as possible in her cage. They stopped by her, she flashed them a glare the she hopes would scream get way for me. Four guards were there.

And a priest.

Of course.

They opened the door and let the priest in, the men stayed posted in front of the door, their backs turned. The old man approached her with a gentle smile.

Dressed in white, his hairs were gray turning more white, a clear sign of his honourable age. Her was almost bald, only a ring of hair left on his naked head, well, from what she could see, a ridiculous small hat was covering the very top of his head. His posture made him smaller then her, dressed in beige and immaculate white, he looked like he didn’t belonged in this tiny, suffocating place.

“You know I could turn you into a frog and throw you across this damned room if I want to old man,” she said before he could say anything, “Don’t you dare take a step closer or I’ll do it.”

“Oh, dear Child, If you could turn anyone into a frog you would have done it already and you wouldn’t be there,” he said getting closer, “You’re not the first witch I’ve dealt with dear. And you’re far from the most terrifying one.”

Dammit. Her frog story always worked on scared passerby who saw her doing questionable stuff. This old man clearly was wiser than he seemed with his dumb little hat and long robe.

“I’m here to forgive you’re sins child, if you confess to me, I’ll pray for your soul to find some peace in heave tomorrow.”

So that’s it, tomorrow’s the big day. Couldn’t have been earlier?

She sniffled “I have nothing to say to you, I’ve done nothing wrong in my life.”

“Witchcraft is against the Lord’s will my dear.”

“Do you think I give a single fuck about the “lord”? Because of his supposedly “will” everything in my life have fallen apart,” the witch said, clearly annoyed.

“Child, your mind in clogged with the devil’s intentions, you must have been practicing this blasphemy for too long. I’m only here to help you, if you tell me what you-“

“I have nothing to say.” She said, daggers in her eyes.

The priest laughed a little.

“Dear, I understand that you’re scared, but if you tell me, everything will be alright, I promise. Now stop being irrational an-“

“Irrational?” Willow cut him for the second time, uncurling from her little protective ball, “are you fucking kidding me? Irrational? I’m probably the most god damn rational person in this whole fucking jail! I don’t have anything to confess! I don’t have anyone to sell out! I DON’T FUCKING CARE ABOUT GOING TO HELL!” she was standing now, towering over the old man who seemed taken a back, but not scared. “I’LL CURSE YOUR ENTIRE BLOODLINE AND DRAG YOU WITH ME IN HELL IF I GO THERE! ‘CAUSE ALL OF YOU ARE THE IRRATIONAL PEOPLE! KILLING INNOCENTS TO SUPPOSEDLY SERVE THE LORD’S WILL, THAT’S BULLSHIT! THIS WHOLE GOD DAMN WORLD IS BULLSHIT AND MEANING LESS!”

Silence filled the room, the sentenced to death looking straight into the religious man’s eye, defying him. His green gaze wasn’t scared, but more disappointed and full of hate.

“well,” the priest finally spoke, his tone had changed, no longer sweet and forgiving, as if something switched inside him, “I see that you poor soul have no interest in redeeming yourself, let me tell you this, even to worst of the worst witches told me their sins, some too deep in to rabbit hole to acknowledge their association with Satan and witchcraft. But you, you’re the first to snap at me like that. Oh, you’re not the first to curse my bloodline, but I prayed for those even though what they did. I won’t pray for you, demon. This is not my child who spoke to me, it’s only the poison left by the devil.”

The door opened, Willow was fuming with rage, who does this man think he his? Calling her a demon. Didn’t he know how much blood he had on his hand?

For the second time this month, she did something stupid.

She launched for the old man.

Everything went by fast. She fell out of her cell with the priest under her, and she just started hitting.

The man tried to stop her but couldn’t do much with his weak arms.

Probably as fast as all of that happened, one guard kicked her in the face, sending her to the ground on her left. Catching herself just in time, Willow looked up and another guard grabbed her by the hair before two others grab her arms. She yelps, they tossed her back in her cell, and closed the door.

She knows they insulted her, but she didn’t understand what they said, too busy realizing how dumb she was again, so close to a chance of getting her freedom, yet she let her anger overtook her. She stayed on all four, looking down. Slowly, the young lady crawled to the hay pile, and finally let go. She cried silently that night, thinking that at least, tomorrow will be her last day in that fucked up world she lived in.

~~~

No, no no no no no. This couldn’t be it. No no!

Willow panicked as she was brought up the stake in her simple, bright white dress. Her hair were down, flowing in the early morning breeze. There must have been a mistake, sentence to death by burning on a stake, didn’t they know? She knows what happens to the ones that survive the stake for whatever reason, they drown them, behead them, what ever it takes to get rid of them.

They tied her hands behind her back.

She didn’t want to drown! She would survive this! She knows it!

The guards left the stage.

If she survives the fire, she will have to go back in the cell and wait another day to be executed, no she doesn’t want that no! She doesn’t want to go back in this wet and cold place! She started to struggle against her restrain. Looking around panicked, ( _Burn the witch!)_ the crowd was screaming at her, ( _let her pay for her sins!),_ searching for a friendly face, ( _Kill her!)_ and finding none.

The fire was lit.

She gasped, feeling the flames lick her bare feet, the heat rising around her.

“ _Burn the witch! Death to the sinner! May she burn even more in hell! Heretic! Monster!”_

She screamed; the crowd cheered louder.

“ _You get what you deserve! Burn the witch! Monster!”_

Not of pain, but of fear, fear of being trapped back underground, without air, without fire.

Tears streamed down her face, as the flame engulfed her. She looked one last time at the crowd before the flames and smoke would block her view.

She caught someone’s gaze. Blue eyes, almost gray, full of not hate, but wonder. She couldn’t see much more, the person wore gasses and seemed to have black hair, darker than her own. And that was it.

As soon as she caught the gaze the smoke hided her view of the crowd, leaving her in a shelter of fire and smoke. She lowered her head, the wood beneath her feet already half gone. Her feet, even if already covered with flames for a long time, remained the same, unharmed, unburned.

Curse her magic.

If only she could have burned, she would have at least gone out in a blazing glory. She chuckled to herself at the idea. If she would have been lucky, that’s how things would have gone.

But Willow isn’t lucky, and life is selfish. This world is hell.

~~~

People started to notice their entertainment for the day wasn’t as entertaining as usual. The witch on the stake wasn’t screaming or coughing, she tried to break free at the beginning, but now she was giving up. Disappointing to say the least, they heard this one was a real deal and even jumped at the local priest Jean, who had a good history with witches. Some started to leave the main street, having better things to do than to watch an uneventful show. Others stay, having nothing else to do or just by curiosity. By those who stayed, there was a man, fresh out of his twenties. Still chocked by his brief look at the sinner’s ember gaze. But something else shocked him, the skate was burning away slowly, but he could still clearly see the witch’s silhouette, somewhat unharmed. Her dress still flowing gently against the breeze of early spring and the heat of the fire. How was that possible? Aren’t witches human too? He has seen plenty of people burned on skates, even if he didn’t like the activity like some other does, and this wasn’t normal.

Others started to notice too it seems, because now people were coming back to the scene and throwing rocks at the sentenced to death. And she was still moving, every time a rock flew too close to her for her liking she flinched, and sobbed, rubbing her face against her shoulder to dry away the tears stained with ashes. With the chaos that was now the witch execution, the guard quickly noticed what was happening. They reacted immediately, bringing water buckers to throw at the flames. With the help of other people in the crowd, they took water from the fountain and splashed the hell fire that was now the stake enough for someone to take the witch out and drag her soaked form back in the jail.

The crowd was booing, unhappy with them taking away their now more than interesting entertainment. The guards tried to calm everyone down without much success. Meanwhile, the man smiled to himself, this could be a great experiment.

~~~

Once again, Willow sat alone in her dark cell. Her clothes have been changed from the delicate white dress to a long white skirt and a scrappy brown shirt with buttons. She was still bare feet, but her hair were now tied up strongly in their usual pig tails. She was frozen, still wet form the buckets of water they threw on the beautiful fire surrounding her. As soon as people realized she was immune to fire, they became angry and tried to create their own event by throwing rock and other things that where on the ground at her. They really couldn’t let her go in peace, could they? She was already crying knowing that what would be her fate after this, and it still wasn’t enough for those peasants.

No of course it’ll never be enough, humans aren’t capable of accepting differences, if witch hunts weren’t a prime example, then war was. Humans would fight over a piece of bread if someone deemed it more important than another one. No one would ever help someone like her. She deserved to die, not for her sins but for being different, for being _born_ different. She deserved to die, for not having a choice.

She brought her knees to her chest, she felt weak and sick, she just wanted to sleep, but being cold and wet didn’t allowed her to get some rest, and her mind wouldn’t help either. So she did the next thing she could think off, she laid on the hay bed and looked at the wall.

~~~

Passing the main door wasn’t the easiest part, He had to observe when the guards where switching watch turns to be able to sneak in while they weren’t looking. After successfully doing so, the jail was a real labyrinth, but he managed to get his way around it in less than an hour while avoiding the other guards.

Finally, the witches jail were all in the basement, not really surprising thinking about it, it’s harder to break out there than being on the top floor.

The guards there were all sleeping, probably wasted when you think about it.

He ventured inside, it smelled like the place had been closed for years, the air was stagnant and filled to the brim with lost hope. He hated it. For him it was a waste of potential, you have those amazing creatures, available to us, and only because of fear and centuries of avoiding them they all end up dead. What a shame, He could only imagine how much humanity would have progressed if they could test and use their so called “magic” before sending them to the grave.

He would change that. Tonight. Well he hoped at least.

~~~

She didn’t notice him. Anyway, what was the point? For a drunk guard to make fun of her? Hell no. Not on her last night. She didn’t budge, still looking at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the whole world. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her puffy and sleepless eyes one last time.

The guard standing in front of her cell didn’t move either.

_Just go away, leave me alone,_ she thought to herself.

“pardon me?”

That wasn’t a guard, no one here spoke like that, especially not to her. They’ll insulter her, call her witch, monster and all sorts of names that she didn’t liked. But this person was… apologizing?

She turned around, stood almost immediately.

And meet the same gaze as earlier.

The two of them looked at each other in the darkness. Him, both hand on the poles of the gate, face almost pressed to them. Her standing back, untrusting of the man in front of her. For what she could see in the dime light, the guys seemed a little older than her, he had indeed black hair, that were standing in all directions, and blue, almost grey eyes. She could see some bangs under his eyes, not as bad as hers but still deep enough to noticed them. He wore a green vest with a white long sleeve shirt underneath that were tucked in his black pants. To top it all up he whore glasses and had a little bag hanging from his belt.

She was the first to break his gaze.

“Wh- Who are you? How the fuck did you get here? What do you want from me?” she said taking a step back.

The man pulled away form the gate to look around him, then slimed at her and presented himself.

“Wilson. Wilson P. Higgsbury.” He placed his hand on his chest as he said this. “and you?”

Willow couldn’t believe her eyes. Who was this man? What was he doing here?

“How did you get here?” she said, ignoring the question.

That wasn’t going as planned. He did hear the witch was stubborn, but he though she would have at least some manners.

He would have asked for her name first before continuing with the conversation, but he probably didn’t had a lot of time before someone would find the sleeping guard and, in the same instance, him, talking to a witch who was going to be executed in a few hours. He decided it was best to answer her first.

“I pass the guards, they’re sleeping. I’m pretty sure they had a tad too much beers to be honest. No chance of them hearing us.

A pause, she looked at him from head to toes.

“And what do you want from me?”

“I want to get you out of here.”

_What?_

_Why?_

“see I think you could be useful for some… studies of mine, so I’m offering to take you out of here.”

Why was this lunatic want to set her free? Didn’t he know she was a witch? Did he want to die? Because if he got caught, he would definitely burn, unlike her.

“So what do you say?” he said extending his hand to her between the gate, another chance to regain her freedom.

This was... strange. No one ever helped Willow. Her own mother feared her, for as far as she can remember, she was the only one that she could trust. Well, excluding her grandmother, but it’s been so long since that it felt like it never happened.

“Bullshit.” the young lady said.

“Pardon?”

“I said: bullshit! I may have been captured but I’m not stupid. You’re just going to give me to someone else to get the reward of turning in a witch.”

The man seemed dumbfounded. He retrieved his hand form the inside of the cell and meet her eyes once again that night. A hint of malice in them.

“Oh. Well, that could be an idea, but I’ve got a better one,” he pause, straightening his glasses and brushed his vest, “You may have survived the stake, but I doubt you’ll survive the others methods they’ll use to execute you, I don’t think you have a potion lying around to allow you to survive without you head. Unless I’m wrong, but it’s unlikely, you’re still human in a way after all no? So here’s what I proposes.

I get you out of here, I don’t give you to any witch hunting group and don’t sell you out. But in exchange, you have to test for me. You have to let me analyze all your witchy stuff and allow me to be there while you’re making them. If you don’t I’ll sell you out. It’s a win-win situation here!

You stay alive, I do science.”

The fiery witch hesitated, first off, this guy definitely wasn’t sane if she knew she was a witch and still offered to help her. She didn’t wanted to die, even if she was feed up with this unfair world and was ready to give up multiple time in the last 48 hours. But she didn’t know if she could trust the guy. And he had a point with the execution method, she definitely couldn’t survive anything else than burning alive.

But the thought of a normal human sneaking his nose in her trinkets was enough to make her fume.

Did she had any other choice? Everything has been confiscated when they took her, no potions, no powder, no herbs, nothing. And she did wanted to see her grandma again…

Again, she was alone, but for once someone was whiling to give her a hand.

“Deal.” She said extending her hand outside her jail cell this time.

He smiled, taken a back a little, took her hand firmly, eyes full of confidence.

“Good. Let’s get you out of this bloody cell shall we?”

~~~

As the sun rise in the sky, the guard where told to get the witch.

The crowd grew impatient, wanting their revenge and their daily entertainment.

They made their way to the sinner’s cell, scissors in hand to cut her hair and a white delicate dress, the same as the fiasco that was yesterday.

The executioner climbed on stage with his axe, ready for his daily duty.

They turned left, pass two of the night duty guard, who clearly has been drinking last night.

Two cells from here.

One cell from here.

There.

As the group turned, they were taken aback. The door was left open, with the keys still in the keyhole. Willow was gone.

~~~

They ran into the night. Not looking back, Willow was free, after two weeks of being locked up underground, after eating nothing but bread and rock-hard meat. Drinking water from the questionable leaks of the ceiling, she would be lying if she’d say it didn’t feel like years.

Yes, she was with a total stranger, not knowing if she could trust him at all.

But like she said, she isn’t dumb, she made stupid moves during the last weeks, but still. If that Wilson guy gives her what she needed, she could make a new broom and leave. Free, forever, more careful than ever.


	2. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow is getting sick and Wilson thinks he's clever.

This was probably the worst idea he ever had.

And that was saying a lot.

Wilson did have pretty bad ideas compare to most people, like tossing random chemicals into a fire and observe what will be the result. The fact that he almost passed out one day after chucking a failed experiment in his fireplace was a proof of his total ignorance of the risks that he could cause. The smell and the smoke were so bad, he had to sleep in the shed for three days, only running in to grab as much food as possible when he was hungry. Though this experimentation wasn’t really bright of him, it gave Wilson some time to work around the plants around his house. Mind him, he was a terrible botanist, and his “garden” was more of a plant cemetery than anything, but after his days outside the house, he manage to make it slightly more lively, not a fully fledge garden, but it wasn’t looking like a war zone anymore, which he thought was a good start.

That was a bad Idea.

Breaking a witch out of jail was a crazy idea.

And somehow it worked.

Wilson was truly impressed with himself! Having such a moment of stupidity that somehow worked without direct consequences. If only his experiments would go as smoothly as this, terribly stupid and illegal thing had gone, he would be recognized as a great scientist that only had the most outlandish and groundbreaking ideas of his time.

But no. There he was, in the middle of the night, running in away from the city with a witch following him close behind.

A witch that he broke out of jail.

Oh god what have he done?

Why has he done that? Well for science of course!

…

Was it?

Wilson wasn’t one to usually consider the danger of his projects, but now his life was on the line. Nothing actually stopped him to leave her behind, she was free, and he would be clear of everything since no one saw him entered the prison and leave it. Though this chance of making progress in his research and learning more about her so called “magic” was the reason he did this stupid thing, right? Did he really need her? Wouldn’t it be safer to continue running around trying to mix chemicals together to see what happen in the hope of one day getting satisfying result? If he kept her, she probably could help him progress faster in this field, no way magic really existed, she probably only practices some form of chemistry and didn’t know any better than calling it magic. But by keeping her, he would be in great danger if people find out. He would be the one down in this claustrophobic jail cell, and she would be with him this time.

The man slowed down, far enough from the main part of town that no one would notice them walking in a dark field by now. He turned back and looked at the criminal; she was shivering, noticeably stressed and on guard. The bags under her eye hanging so low that her face looked more like a skull than a living person’s. Her scrappy brown blouse that was given to her in jail, (probably some old clothes that belonged to someone who was long gone by now) looked barely enough to keep her warm in the cold night, and her bare feet and skirt definitely didn’t helped.

“What? Why are you looking at me?” the young woman said between two shivers.

Wilson snapped out of his thoughts, “Oh! For no reason, just checking to make sure you were still following.”

If he had told her that he was contemplating leaving her behind, well she would probably be pretty happy with that to be honest, but Wilson saw not a witch following him, but a person scared of going back there, deep underground where no fresh air would come to you, where you have to sleep on hay every night until you die, even if she was a witch, he didn’t wish that for anybody. Besides, he noticed how weak she looked, and even if she wanted to run away, she already had trouble keeping up with him, she wouldn’t go far.

Rationalizing his decision, Wilson continued his route towards the little road emerging from the forest. It was for science that he saved her, but also because she was, well in a way, human.

~~~

Willow would have run away from him. Sure, he threatened her to sell her out if she tried to run away, but if the young witch was faster that wouldn’t be a problem, right? Yeah, it wouldn’t, but spending two weeks eating close to nothing and drinking celling water in a cold cell would render weak and frail the strongest of man. Without a broom to fly nor the plants and ingredients necessary to make some potions and spells to protect herself, she wouldn’t go far, she doubted that that Wilson guy would give her another chance if she tried to run and failed. He was quite literally risking his life for her freedom, only because he thought Willow would listen to him and do what he wanted. Yeah, right, as if. She just needed to wait, get better and stop shivering all the time. Then she would run, far, far away, the farthest she could go, and she would never come back.

Her options seemed to be pretty much close to nothing locked down there. Now she started to see some more. Willow never intended to listen to that guy, but her plan in her head started to get a little bit clearer, maybe it was the fresh air, or just her soon accessible freedom: she would stay with him a bit to get better, make him get what she needs to enchant a broom and make some basic spells, craft them in secret and flee as soon as she can. She’ll have to be sneaky for that, she knows the guy is going to put his nose in her stuff, that was the condition for him to get her out of this hell place. She’ll have to work at night probably, and she’ll need a place to hide her crafts. She’ll wait to see where they’re going to elaborate more than that.

They entered a little dirt road that lead to a forest, Willow had absolutely no idea of where they were going, she never went that way, even on her broom. It was too close to the city for her liking, and this forest in particular didn’t seem to have anything helpful for her potions that grew naturally. From what she could see in the dark of the night, she wasn’t mistaken she could barely see anything useful, not even some small mandrake.

 _I’m glad I didn’t wasted time by going here, jeez, it’s gonna be harder to find ingredients than I thought,_ the witch thought to herself.

Wilson led her out of the main road, explaining that even if people don’t usually take this path to travel, they should be careful and avoid passing by travelers and merchants. Willow didn’t complain about this, the forest floor may be harder to walk, but she’ll get a closer look at what’s she’s working with, it’ll save her some time.

They walked for a long time, trekking through the dark forest, the fiery witch had trouble keeping up with the self-proclaimed scientist, she was tired and felt as weak as ever, her bare feet hurt more and more as she walked on unsuspecting tree roots and pine needles that laid on the ground. Many times, she tripped on her own feet or other things like a rock and sticks, she didn’t like it at all. The man was starting to get some distance between the two of them.

Maybe this could be her chance.

As soon as she thought that, as if Wilson had some kind of mind reading ability, he turned around to look at her behind his glasses. His gaze was neutral, he brought his glasses back up on his nose and waited.

She looked around.

“Are you coming?” said the man.

Willow stood there for a moment, not saying anything, “yeah…”

She made her way to him, as fast as she could, which was not really fast, and was more like a slow jog. The scientist seems to notice it.

“Are you sure? You seem a little bit sluggish, I don’t know you, but judging by the bags under your eyes I guess I’m not completely missing the mark here.”

The witch didn’t respond, rather passed by him and he followed her, taking that as a yes. He walked next to her this time, holding out his hand when she almost tripped. She took it a few times to regain balance but let go of it immediately. He couldn’t help but noticed how warm her hand felt in his own for the brief moments they made contact, probably a side effect from whatever she used to protect her from the flames of the skate. Nothing to worry about.

~~~

It was getting abnormal, his companion was tripping more and more, she was starting to walk slower and they could barely make any progress, the sun will be rising in the sky in a few hours and he couldn’t afford them walking during the day so close to a road, he tried to push her a little bit, a hand on her back and one under her elbow, but she swatted them away. There wasn’t a lot he could do to help if she didn’t wanted to use him as a support, they were getting no where if she refuse to cooperate.

“Hey, let me help you a little bit more, you can barely stand on your own, I’m not blind, you keep tripping on your own two feet and we barely made any progress for 15 minutes.” Wilson said to her, as she almost fell and caught her arm just in time.

The girl looked at him, obviously annoyed, but also very clearly out of breath.

“I’m fine. No need to help.” She responded, hoping he would buy it.

“I’m sorry miss but you obviously can’t.” he grabbed her arm putting it over his shoulder and wrapping his other arm around her waist.

“WHAT NO! LET ME GO!” said the witch struggling to free herself without any success.

“Listen. We need to go back to my place before sun rise, if we see someone during the day, both of us are done for, so just cooperate alright. You clearly can’t walk on your own anymore.”

The woman cursed under her breath, she obviously had no manners at all, but Wilson had to work with it, for the time being. They the most important thing for now was going home.

He adjusted his grip on her wrist and waist, she let out an angry mumble that he couldn’t understand, and continue to walk. Willow didn’t wanted to help at first, dragging her feet on the ground and letting all her weight being held by the scientist, she eventually stopped her childish behavior and walked alongside him the best she could, still mumbling angrily to herself.

~~~

The sun was barely peeking in the horizon when they made it to his house. It honestly wasn’t much, a simple house with two stories, it wasn’t big either, just enough for one person without feeling cramped, there was a little porch in the front and a small shed behind where he kept his science stuff probably. Trees surrounded it and there was a little clearance in front of the porch, and unless you where walking right by it or looking for it, the house and the shed was deep enough in the woods to be pretty much hidden from anyone. Willow wondered why; she would have asked questions if she wasn’t felling like dying right now. She felt like she could pass out any moment, she was tired, and shivering like she’d been dipped in cold water from head to toes, she didn’t had the energy to fight the scientist on anything, she tried to make his task a little bit more difficult when he started supporting her against her will, but she lost the energy even for that. Staying with him was definitely the best idea for now.

Wilson adjusted her weight on him, and continue to walk towards the shed, he opened the door and slowly let her go. The young lady tried to stay up, but failed miserably and fell on the floor, he tried to catch her with no luck. Willow rolled on her back, seeing a slightly concerned Wilson looking at her, not really knowing what to do. She definitely didn’t want to be picked up again and the man seems to notice it.

“Hum... let me get you something to drink and eat.” said the scientist moving away from her and out the shed, closing the door behind him.

The woman rolled on her side, exhausted, she could probably fall asleep right now if she wasn’t freezing on her spot, why was she so cold anyway?

The little shed in which she had been left in was dusty and messy, to her surprise, there wasn’t any science-y stuff that she could recognize. There was a lot of gardening tool that seems to have been sitting there collecting dust to the point where it was starting to become a silent competition between them and the celling. There were spider webs hanging between them, and the ceiling only had a little more for itself, the place looked almost abandoned from the inside. Broken plants pots were piled up into each other forming a tower that was threatening to fall down at any moment. There was a little shelf too, for various other tools that were equally, if not more, dusty than the rest of the shed. Willow rolled on her side and saw the rest of the little place; a desk with and a little stove in the corner, it was almost like a miniature room, even if it was really dirty.

Wilson came back not long after, some dried meat, vegetables and fresh water. Willow honestly hoped for something else than dried meat, but now wasn’t the time to complain, she was hungry and thirsty. She sat up, leaning against the wall for support and took the food from Wilson’s hand.

“Please, eat slowly, I don’t know what they fed you in prison, but I can assume it wasn’t something very… nourishing.” The man said crouching down next to her.

“I can take care of myself.” Willow responded.

She started eating the carrot, Willow hated vegetables, but she really didn’t want to eat dried meat again. She took small bites out of the vegetable. After sometimes, the carrot was finished and she drank some water, well more like drowned the water. It was so fresh and cold, it felt like years since she drank something as good as that. She asked Wilson to get her some more as she ate the meat. It was actually way better than the one she ate in jail, which was a relief. As her teeth sank into her modest meal, she curled against herself to keep her warmth. The Sun was starting to shine in the sky with his shy morning light and her eyes where closing by themselves, the only thing keeping her from falling in a deep rest, was the scientist entering once again the shed with a cup of water and some blankets. He handed her the water and started to arrange them on the floor to make a sort of bed.

“There, you’ll sleep here since I don’t have anywhere else for you. I’ll bring you food and water every day, just tell me if you need something.” Wilson told her heading for the door and stopping before opening it, he turned and looked at the witch.

“What do you want again, creep?” she declared rather harshly.

He fiddled with his glasses, “Nothing, I was just thinking that you look, um… not to sound too harsh but you look pretty terrible, you must need some sleep.” he grabbed the doorknob, “also, I don’t think I’ve caught your name, Miss…?”

“Willow.”

“Willow...?”

“Just Willow.”

He looked disappointed but smiled none the less. Letting go of the doorknob and crouching once again to her level he held out his hand for her to take.

“Well then, pleased to meet you Miss Willow.”

Willow did not take his hand, “Nice to meet you too.”

A bit offended he got back up and left without a word.

Willow finished her water cup, untied her pigtails and went directly to the “bed”, curling under the blanket she closed her eyes and slept the whole day.

~~~

Wilson went into his house and sat at his kitchen chair. He was tired, but the man couldn’t bring himself to go lay in his bed. The Adrenaline of the night was fading away, and he once again started to think about what he has done. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. The way the Witch walked so clumsily through the forest was a proof that she wouldn’t have gone far if he let her behind, she was hungry and dehydrated. He’d done the right thing, but now it was time to think deeper into this. He knew she would probably try to run away when she felt better, he couldn’t tell when, but he needed to find something to prevent that.

He got up and started to make some tea.

His train of thought worked slower than usually, he hated that, but he needed to think now, he needed to find a solution fast. She may be not in shape to flee now, but who was he to tell that she wouldn’t be okay when she woke up? Wilson started pacing his living room, which was next to the small kitchen, walking always helped him solved his problems when he was experimenting, it should help him now.

What should he do? He didn’t have any room for her in his house, and honestly living with the Witch-

Wait no,

Willow,

She had a name after all.

Living with Willow so close to him, not knowing what kind of strange experiment she was capable of, wasn’t an idea that he liked.

The tea pot whistled, dragging him out of his own thought and he went to serve himself some of the hot drink in a small cup.

He put down his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index of his left hand. The only solution he could think of was letting her in the shed…

And locking her in.

He really didn’t like the idea, again, breaking her out of prison only to lock her back in a sort of jail.

But he was out of ideas and he couldn’t tell when she would wake up, he didn’t have much time, she could be running away right now even if he doubts it by her look.

He sipped his tea silently; he really didn’t like where this was going.

Wilson started to understand that, rescuing Willow was a lot more than he bargained for.

He had to do it, like it or not, it was not only for science, but for his life, if someone saw her even from afar, he could end up on the stake or without a head.

He finished his tea and search in the little drawer near the door, looking for the shed’s key. He found it without too much trouble, the key in hand he went outside and looked out the little window on the door.

She was sleeping. Slipping the key in the keyhole he turned it. Locked. He tried opening the door, and it didn’t budge, great. Then man went around the shed to make sure the windows couldn’t be open more than a slit, once he was satisfied, he went back inside and locked his own door.

He felt horrible, mentally and physically. The adrenaline has faded away, leaving behind only a man tired to the bones and sleep deprived. Locking Willow in the shed didn’t help either. He went upstairs, turned left to his room, and collapse in his bed. Wilson rarely slept, he thought it was a waste of time, but now, he was glad that as soon as his head hit the pillow, he drifted off.

~~~

When Willow finally decided to leave her blanket nest, it was pitch black outside. The night was calm, a small breeze was blowing, chanting away a nice tune of fresh air and rebirth, a song that could only be made by the shy spring wind. She spotted something between the tree branches, the moon was merely a thin croissant in the sky, and it wouldn’t take a lot of days before it disappears. Since she didn’t look at the moon during her trip of probably yesterday out of the prison, she had no way to tell how long she’d slept, but she knew for sure one thing: She didn’t feel better, at all. In fact, her she felt worst. The hazel eyed lady could feel pressure on her temples like someone was trying to drill a hole in her head. She felt even colder than before but also suffocating. This wasn’t good.

 _Yep, I definitely caught something_ , she thought to herself as she laid back down on her makeshift bed.

The world started spinning, closing her eyes she focused on the howling wind against the window. Willow lost the track of time, almost hypnotized by the chime she was hearing. She covered herself again with the blankets, but she couldn’t sleep. Too cold, too hot, too loud, too quiet, nothing made sense in her feverish mind.

Willow hated being sick, she had trouble sleeping and couldn’t concentrate on her witchy activities properly, which most of the time, ended up in some explosion due to a lack of precaution or miss calculations. She’d lost too many precious ingredients while trying to craft when her body was at war with a microscopic enemy, the fiery witch decided after almost losing her right hand to stop her activity while in those conditions. But now, he wouldn’t permit it right? Wilson would force her to make some potions or spells and god know how this is going to end. She doubted he would be able to gather rare ingredients, in that case she would be stuck with more unstable herbs and plants to craft, which means more dangerous results.

As much as she’d like to go back to sleep, the anxiety provoked by this though couldn’t go away, this guy may have given her food and water, but he wouldn’t wait for her to recover to crack open the secrets of her magic. Willow could feel it.

She laid there for the rest of the night, hoping that she wouldn’t lose any fingers if that happen.

~~~

When Wilson woke up the next day in the early hours of the morning, he made sure to check what he would need for his experiments. Looking through a rudimentary book about witchcraft and sorcery that he’d found at a shady library some years back, he quickly choose a spell to perform.

Fire immunity.

If she was able to pull it up once, she should be able to do it again.

He looked at the herbs and parts of small animals he needed to perform the spell, quickly noting it on a small paper, made a small meal for the witch, taking the time to check on her before heading into the forest. She was still in bed.

\---

When he finally came back, the sun was way higher in the sky, it was almost noon and the five ingredients had been gathered.

A crow feather, a salamander’s tail (it was still squirming and Wilson was yelping every time it did), lavender, peppermint and a small branch of Willow tree.

Once he reached his house, he quickly prepared another meal for Willow, some buttered toast, bacon and strawberries. If she ate her meal this morning and passed it, she should be able to eat this too.

As he approached the tool shed with the plater in hand and the basket full of ingredients hanging from his elbow, he could hear a rattling sound coming for the door, he came a little bit closer, careful if the fiery witch inside ever successfully escape. But instead all he could hear was her swearing as she struggled with the door, once he was close enough form the shed, the rattling stopped, Willow probably deciding to act as if nothing happened seeing him approaching.

The scientist unlocked the door and entered the storage.

“Good morning Miss Willow! Have you slep-” he stopped talking, seeing her pretending to sleep in the bed. Wilson let out a small sigh, “You know, I actually heard you trying to open the door, I know you’re not asleep anymore.”

He placed her food on the windowsill and watched as the witch raised slowly form her bed and turned around to face him. Wilson had trouble hiding his shocked expression at her state.

If she looked terrible in prison, well then, now she looked like a living skeleton. Willow’s face was as pale as a bed sheet freshly washed. Her loose hair where sticking on her sweaty skin and the bags under her eyes had barely reduced. She was trembling even more then yesterday, which was saying something. But even with all of that, she looked angry at him for calling her out.

She coughed, “Stop looking at me like I’m a ghost for fuck sake!”

Wilson came back to his sense, “Sorry.” He grabbed the food plater. “I brought you something to eat, have you eaten your breakfast? I figure you did since the plate isn’t here anymore. Where is it by the way?”

She didn’t answer, but rater looked at a spot behind him on the shelf, he slowly followed her line of sight. Broken pieces of the said plate could be seen, badly hidden behind a watering can.

“Wha- How? What happened?”

Once again, Willow offered him the silence treatment and took the plater from his hand. She started eating right away, clearly she was hungrier than he thought. He carefully took the remaining pieces of the plate in his hand.

“Miss Willow, what happened? Did you dropped the plate by accident?”

The witch looked at him between two enormous bites, only to continue with her diner right after. Once she was finished, Willow put the plater down and laid a bit on the wall behind her, feeling better with a stomach full. Wilson started to get annoyed by her behavior, it was clear she was trying to avoid the question. Did she think he would be mad at her for breaking it by accident?

“You know, I won’t be mad if you-”

“I broke it and it’s _your_ fault.” cut the young lady.

“Excuse me?”

“I broke it and it’s your fault. _You_ locked me in here.”

Oh. As he looked a little bit more, the scientist could see some shards stuck in between the planks of the door.

“Well, it is certainly not my way of doing things, but I didn’t-”

“You broke me out of jail to lock me back in! You lied to me! You said that I was going to be free!”

Wilson was taken aback by the volume of her voice. She may look like a half dead monster right now, but she definitely wasn’t one. Probably a witch thing, maybe some kind of spell was wearing off that was supposed to make her look younger than she was actually, and that was why she looked so bad right now. The man tried again to explain the situation.

“I locked you here because I don’t trust you. I don’t know what you’re capable of, and the fact that you followed me to my house either tell me you have something behind your head, or you’re dumber than you said you are, which I doubt. And besides, you _did_ try to escape?”

Willow’s eyes got angrier, if it was possible to murder someone only with your gaze, well she was doing it to Wilson’s now. It seems to work a bit, since the scientist in question got back a little, he seemed to remember she was a witch and that he was totally unaware of what she could do to him. The two stayed in that staring contest for what seems like an eternity, until the blue eyed broke her gaze, looking to his left side towards the basket of ingredients.

“I got something for you, I went in the woods this morning and gather this.” he said coldly, trying to change the subject. Willow didn’t flinch, still in her defiant state of mind. “I have a book of spell, I got it a few years ago and I found the recipe for the fire immunity spell you used. I know you can make it again.”

Silence, the witch looked briefly at the ingredients and cringe from what she saw in it, but didn’t said anything.

Wilson started to rummage through the shelves and drawers of the small desk, looking for a pen and paper that he probably left lying around somewhere knowing himself. When he finally found one, he settled on the ground in front of Willow, taking some notes absently once every now and then,

Willow looked at him, waiting for him to start speaking. He didn’t, way too absorbed in his little world of science, Willow clear her throat to catch his attention. He jumped a little at the sudden sound, straighten his glasses and extended his hand to grad the basket. Once it was on the ground, Willow got a better look at the content.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she exclaimed as she dig thought the small gathering of ingredients.

Wilson looked away from his notes, “Huh? What do you mean, this is what the book told me to get.”

“I can’t do shit with that. None of these things mix together, and I also don’t have what is needed to prepare a spell.” she looked at him for a second before going back to the ingredients, he looked puzzled.

“That can’t be true… that’s what the book told me!”

“Then sorry to break it to you buddy, but the book is telling you bullshit.”

A moment passed. Wilson seemed to mumbled something under his breath, his brows frowned and the tip of his pen tapping his lips slightly. Suddenly, the tapping stopped, his eyes grew wide and a knowing smile grew on his face. He looked at Willow.

“You’re lying.”

It was now Willow’s turn to give him wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re lying, you want me to get you something else, and what you’re going to ask me is going to be used to plan your escape! The old lady sold me the book and assure me it was a real copy, used by witch hunters to gather information, you’re only trying to get me to help you craft your personal stuff, that’s why you followed me here.”

Willow couldn’t believe her ears, he was dumber than what he seemed, “You’re… are you serious right now? I get that you don’t trust me, but I literally can’t do anything with these. I’m not lying.”

She looked at him dead in the eyes, the scientist didn’t seemed to buy it. He got up, picked up the remaining of the plate in his hand before placing it in the unharmed one.

“Don’t try to fool me Miss Willow, I think I can let you craft this spell alone to begin, you probably need to get settle here anyway. I got research papers to update today, I’ll come back tonight and I hope your spell will be started at least. When I do please explain me in details how exactly you prepare it.” he opened the door with his free hand, and open the rest with his foot. “If it’s not started by nightfall, I’ll consider reporting you to the authorities.”

The witch shot up, panicked at his last statement, she wobbled a bit, the world spinning around her at the sudden change of stance, just as he was going to close the door she grabbed his arm and he turned to look at her, shocked.

“Listen to me Nerd.” She said, it was hard to focus on him, everything was moving in her field of vision. “I can’t make anything with these, as much as I’d like too. Your book is a scam, nothing more.”

Willow stood back, losing her balance she almost fell on the ground, but manage to catch herself at the last second.

“Craft. I won’t ask it again. And stop lying.” The scientist respond coldly before closing the door.

The fiery witch felt a rage traveling up her body, she launched for the already close door and banged her fist on it with all the forces she had left, tried to open it up without success, it was already locked.

So she did what she knew she could, “IF I COULD, TURN YOU INTO A FROG I WOULD!” she screamed at Wilson who was already inside the house.

She pressed her back against the door. She felt awful, sick, tired and hopeless.

She was trapped again, what a shitty excuse of "being free”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two babeeeey!  
> This chapter was long to write, I had to figured out like, how I wanted things to happened, but in the mean time (and since I ran out of data) I started to note things on the story, so I should be able to write chapters a little bit faster, at least I hope!  
> College is starting soon so I'll stick with one chapter a month for now!
> 
> This chapter's drawing is made by ma girl Shad, go send her some stick bug on tumblr here ;)  
> https://salty-shad.tumblr.com/
> 
> thank you once again to everyone that helped me and gave me ideas and espacially to you for reading!
> 
> see you next chapter! :D


	3. An Agreement

It was a beautiful day, one of those that we rarely get in early spring. For the whole day people enjoyed the warmer weather, childrens were playing in the parks, at different kinds of made up games, some consisted of catching the girls like adults do sometimes and putting them in an imaginary cage. Witch hunting was a concept far from understandable for some children, but the parents didn’t bother explaining it more than it needed to be. Some people were just evil, and that was that. 

For those who weren’t playing outside, they were enjoying a beer with their pals at the pub, or something in that vein, living life like nothing mattered. 

We couldn’t say that much for the headmaster of the prison. 

It was the first time a witch actually escaped, and people knew it. this may be even worse than the god damn woman disappearing. Townsfolk knowing they’ve failed to protect them from those awful demons would definitely bring avok if not quickly dealt with. He needed to find her, or one that closely resembled the woman. But how could he capture and keep a witch that already had escaped one time? 

He needed a new idea.

  
  


\---

Far away, deep in the forest, on this beautiful day a man was sitting on his porch. Reading frantically strange paper. He looked panicked and in a hurry, as if his reading was a matter of life and death, after some mumbeling, he set back his glasses on his nose and went inside to busy himself some more with different study papers. He needed to clean his head and he needed some tea.

Only a few meters behind the man’s house, the calm day of spring seemed to be broken by the frantinc scrubbing noise, the air was filled with heavy black charcoal dust, giving the small space of the shed a darker light. The woman in the middle of it was coughing more than she had been before, her head was spinning, but she couldn’t stop. Willow needed to find something to make with the useless ingredient Wilson had brought her, no matter what it was, she didn’t care, the witch didn’t want to go back to jail, even if the shed could qualify as one. 

Willow’s idea was to make some basic spell with what she remembered of her books, the salamander tail could be used for some sort of fire protection, but the crow feathers would cancel it’s effects. For the last hour or so, she’d been scribbling a star on the floor, using the cold ashes and pieces of charcoal left in the dead stove. She tried to reginight some pieces of wood, without success, Willow could feel the sickness taking hold of the small amount of magic she could do without preparing, rendering her pretty much a normal human with a bad fever.

Even if the wood of the floor was pretty worned out by time, many splinters were still able to lodge in Willow’s hand, usually she would have complained and made a big deal out of it, but she was out of time, the little bit of charcoal was already getting unsable. She tossed it in a corner behind the door, with the rest of the bits already used, and grabbed another one, smaller than the previous one. The pentagram was finally taking shape, she took the tree branch and put it in the higher arm of the star. She continued writing the symbols she could remember in the outside part of the circle. Tossed the bit in the pile, grabbed another one. put the now dried salamander tail on the lower branch, scribbled a little more. More dust filled the air, she coughed, and sniffed, stopped for a while to allow her head to be still. And resumed her task. 

The nightly ambience of the shed added to the hurry of the witch, the more the charcoal bit was getting smaller, the more Willow was getting stressed, it’s one thing to remember how to draw a pentagram correctly, but it's another to remember what to do with it. Without a spell book, most witches couldn’t do anything. Willow did memorize basic spells, like the enchanting broom one, the water repulsive one and the summoning one, but none of them needed pentagram to work, they all only needed words spoken aloud and some basic herbs. Pentagram required more complex lexis to work, they were basically a magic focus, but it couldn’t do much without words, magic needed to travel from the user to the focus and words was one of the ways it could work. 

She stopped, allowing herself to look fully at her work. 

Willow was… disappointed to say the least, she doubted that the amalgamation of knowledge she’d created could actually do anything useful. Looking outside, the witch realised how much time she passed on her pentagram, the sun was nowhere to be seen in the sky, hiding behind the trees, painting the bits she could see from the window with fiery colours. 

Willow loved the sunset, the sky bursting up into flames and the stillness of the world in this exact moment was a necessity for her. Willow’s life hadn’t been peaceful, and it wasn’t going to be anytime soon. All her life she fled, first with her grandmother, then with the coven and now form death itself. Will she ever be able to sit down and take in the view just like the sun seems to do before hiding for the night? She hopes she’ll be able to live her last days in a place like her old little cabine, alone, peaceful, and silent. This stressful day she’d spent in the shed after her argument with Wilson was the complete opposite of the world outside, once again Willow was close to the calm life she yearned so much for, but someone was keeping her away from it. Maybe this was her life, maybe she’ll always have something or someone preventing her from reaching peacefulness. Then again, it was her fault, in a way, that she got captured in the first place. Even when doing good around her, the world punished her for being a witch. No, Willow would never be free, and she’ll never be able to live a life as peaceful and relaxed as this Wilson guy probably lives in this forest. 

The fiery witch took a last look at her pentagram, her bare feet, sore for her long walk of yesterday, where now darken by the charcoal bits she used. Her hands were completely black on the tips of her fingers and her palms, she couldn’t tell, but her face was probably covered with a little bit of charcoal smears too, giving her an older look than what she really was. She shivered, even if the inside of the shed was burning and cozy.   
  
Willow sniffed, bringing her index to her nose to get rid of the feeling of her nose running, painting it with dark black in the process, only managing to make herself sneezed. She finally let herself rest, sinking to the floor on her sort of bed, she cleaned her hands on a part of her skirt. resting her head against one of the shelves, she thought about her future, the one she’ll probably never have, a peaceful life where she could do what she wants, no need to hide, no need to run, just living in the moment. Her daydreaming slowly became real, as she fell in a light sleep. She was still cold, dirty, and feeling sick, but still she slept, her head resting on an uncomfortable shelf full of dust and charcoal.

\---

Entering his house, he made his way to the stove and made once again, tea, maybe he drank too much of it, but Wilson didn’t care. Tea was one of the ways he used to clear his head, that and many sleepless nights to bring him to the point where everything was vivid in his head. When he was younger and still living far away, his parents would always scold him when he did this before some of his more important projects, hence where the tea came in, as his mom put it: “Tea is simpler and more efficient to help you concentrate.” which he sadly disagreed on, but drinking the hot beverage had already become an habit when he realised the utter uselessness of the thing. So he still drank it to this day, simply by habit and the pleasant taste of it. 

Putting his papers on the table, he grabbed the teapot and after filling it up with water, put it on the stove to boil. The study papers he was trying to write were a real pain for his exhausted mind somehow. His old trick of being tired to the point you feel your bones melt inside your skin was doing the opposite today, and he knew exactly why.    
  


Willow.

The witch tried to fool him, he knew that, people tried to fool him before, way more often than you might think. But something about her was off, the panic in her voice, the screaming and baging on the door that he could hear distantly after reaching his front door, there was anger and even rage in it, cause probably by him seeing through her malice, but there was something else that reminded him of something he once felt, long long ago. The memory was blurry, and he couldn’t recall what exactly was the feeling, but he knew he was familiar with it. Maybe it was desperation? He’s been desperate many times in his life, the more vivid memory he had of it was when his life long crush got engaged to another man before he had the time to even confess to her. Not only Wilson felt like nothing significant, but he felt like an idiot for even trying. 

That was one of the reasons he moved here, that and other… things happening. 

But no, desperation wasn’t the word, it was something else, something more raw and real. This tiny little detail in her voice was what kept his mind occupied enough to stop all work for the day. 

The teapot whistled, Wilson absently put some tea in the hot water and waited. He put his glasses aside and holded his head with his hands, he hated it, he really just wanted to progress on his research, to change his mind and make some progress after weeks of nothing! The last meeting was embarrassing enough as it was, he needed to finish this. But his not so safe rescuing of a witch and her trying to trick him was tearing the scientist apart. If she tried to trick him once, she’ll definitely try again, and nothing could actually stop her from concocting a secret spell or curse to get away once she has enough ingredients.

Thinking of it, maybe it was what she was trying to do, acquire ingredients to curse him once she gets the necessary things to do so. In that case it’ll be better to let her go, but he needed her to progress, he was stuck in a dead end.

He served himself some tea while looking at his paper one last time, he should have picked a less complex topic. He was tired. It was almost time to go check back on Willow too, hopefully she’d done the spell. Finishing his tea, he went upstairs in his little working place, and put the papers safely in the drawers and headed for the shed.

\---

Willow was awakened by the sound of rustling metal. She jumped on her feet quickly and almost immediately grabbed the shelf to regain balance. By the time Wilson was in the shed with her, she had regained her balance and took the straightest posture she could have in this instant.   
  


The scientist looked her up and down, probably noticing her darken hands and feet. He opened his mouth for a split second before closing it and brought his gaze on her work.

Willow followed it, having rested a little, the witch could appreciate her, sadly, crappy work. It was honestly terrible, none of this would work together. Of course Wilson wouldn’t know, he was stupid enough to belive the book he followed was a real copy of a Witch’s journal or something like that, but when she’ll show him that it wouldn’t work, only two possible outcomes would occur. One, he’ll believe her and get her the right ingredients to perform the spell he wants, handforth the young lady would slowly gain his trust and would be able to flee once she has enough material to enchant a broom. Second, he would react exactly the same as he did and call her bluff, even if she tried to explain the problem to him, and she would end her days drowned in a river somewhere. The latter was probably the more likely.

“Well, shall we start?” said Wilson, breaking the silence. He seemed to be satisfied that Willow actually worked on something, which was good for her.

She nodded, and got closer to the pentagram, grabbing an empty bottle on the shelf and putting it in the middle of the charcoal drawing. Willow backed off, if he wouldn’t know that nothing is going to happen, might as well mess around with her “host” a little. 

“I would back off if I were you.”

Wilson looked at her, “uh? Why-”

She didn’t let him finish, she started to recite the enchanting broom spell aloud, she would go all out to freak him out and fool him the best she can.

“ **_Per aerem et relinquatis,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_et non oriri pulvis procul,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_et sumam mihi,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_et educ me usque ad solis occasum!_ ** ”

A breeze rose around her and surended the bottle, the tiny among of magic left in her trying it’s best to enchant the broom that wasn’t there. The scientist was trying to flatten himself against the wall the best he can, his expression was one of shock and fascination, he definitely was fooled by this little trick. The glass bottle was lifted in the air by a few inches before it dropped back down on the dirty floor. The wind stopped letting the cover of black dust fall back down on the witch and the man. Willow on the other hand, was exhausted, she used all the magic she could for that tiny trick, she was more sick than she thought. Her legs were shaking and she had to hold onto the tiny desk to her right not to fall completely, while regaining her balance to not appear too weak, she peaked at Wilson, who was still hugging the wall as much as he could.

Slowly, Wilson let go of the wall, and got closer to the bottle. He poked it with his feet, making it wobble, first slowly, then quickly until it stopped. Only then did the scientist rush to grab the bottle with fascination, examining it from every angle possible. The more he spinned the object in his hands, the more he started to smile, he let out a tiny laugh.   


“This is amazing! The glass isn’t even cracked! And it won’t even bur-” the smile on Wilson’s face slowly faded away, he looked around the shed before leaving it and coming back with a few sticks. He lit a bunch of them up with a lighter that was hidden in a drawer and overed the glass bottle ove it.   
  
Willow tried to hide a laugh.

When the glass didn’t catch fire, he looked her dead in the eyes. “Glass doesn't burn.”

“About time you figured it out.”

The scientist, too scared and excited to see magic in work for the first time, totally forgot about the using an flammable object. How could he, a scientist, forget about something as important as that?   
  
“I mean,” She coughs, “you can’t really prove that the spell didn’t work, I tell you that it did.”

Wilson felt stupid, he has been tricked again by her. 

“Do it again.”    
“I can’t,” Willow paused, her head hurted, she felt weak, “I can’t perform a spell like this until a while again, you’ll have to wai-”

“You’re lying, you did it yesterday at the stake.”

Caught. Willow cursed herself to be sick in a moment as critical as this. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t find the right words to get her out of what she’d done. 

“So what did you do to it.” Wilson asked firmly.

Willow closed her hands into fists, and got up, walking all the way to him and looking him dead in the eyes, she had enough of this. She had enough of him. She had enough of being so close to freedom without ever being able to reach it.    
  
“You want to know what I did to it? You really want to know?” her voice was hoarse, her head was becoming foggy and her legs were threatening to give away any moment now, “I did absolutely  _ nothing _ . you wouldn’t listen to me when I said the ingredients aren’t the one I need to make magic, but YOU, mister Scientist know it all, didn’t listen, with your _ “vast intellect” _ , you figured out I was going to trick you! Wow! Good job. I wouldn’t have if you would just have given me the things I asked for and a GOD DAMNED REAL SPELL BOOK! YOU MORO-” 

Wilson pushed her back, and that was the queue for her leg to stop working, she fell backwards. Willow hitted the floor and stayed there, barely pulling herself up a bit to look at the scientist.

“I know I should have left you in this jail cell. Thank you for your time, I’ll let them know I’ve found you tomorrow.” 

And that was the trigger for her legs to work again, she jumped up at him, trying to stop him from leaving the shed, but the world went black, all sounds became muffle and a ringing tone started in her ears, Willow knew she was screaming, but couldn’t hear anything. As the world became colder and as she felt her consciousness drifting away from her, she grabbed onto something. And she fell.

\---

Willow didn’t expect to wake up in a warm, cozy room. It smelled like spices and the sun was barely touching her face, it felt too good to be true honestly. She didn’t want to open her eyes because of that, if this was a dream, she’d prefer to stay asleep forever. Even in her dream, she was so used to living a hard life, her brain recreated a very warm and welcoming room, but the bed on which she was laying was hard and the pillow was almost empty and smelled a weird fragrance she didn’t recognize. At least, she was comfortable, and she would stay there until the end. 

She slept, she couldn’t tell how long, she couldn’t tell where she was, she would love to still be in the room filled with spices, but it was unlikely, her brain couldn’t recreate the room twice, she learned fast that her mind didn't like to give her the same dream twice. Now she was cold and shivering, she could hear voices from outside, Willow couldn’t tell how many people were talking, but it seemed serious. After a while, the voices faded and someone opened a door. She could hear a teapot whistle before she fell back asleep to the high pitched sound.

Third time she woke up, she could hear rain on a roof, wherever she was, it was certainly better than being outside. The room was still, and she could hear footsteps from above her. They were coming closer, she stayed still, too tired and scared to move if the person was to come her way. To her dismay, a door opened next to her and the footsteps stopped next to her. Silence, she didn’t move. The person put their hand on her forehead before dropping something next to her left. Then they got up, and left, closing the door behind them. That’s when she decided to open her eyes for the first time.

She was inside a pretty big pantry, the shelves were filled with spices, herbs and different ingredients sealed in pots. There were pans and other kitchen instruments on another one. She was tucked in a pile of blankets and the pillow was beaten up and almost empty, even with the coat covering it, she could still distinguish the pathetic thing under it. She then turned to her left, there was a cup of tea sitting there. It smelled like fruits and herbs, she couldn’t tell what exactly, but it’s aroma was filling the room, rendering the dimly lit pantry more welcoming. There was also a tiny window across her and she could see the rain pouring outside. 

Other than that, she had no idea where she was, she could barely remember what happened after she performed the spell. Willow took a moment to try and pierce the fog that was covering her mind and slowly piece together what happened. She remembers screaming at him, saying something about tomorrow, bringing her back to town for money. What happened in between to end up here? The door behind her opened again, Willow didn’t even hear them walk up to here. She turned around, expecting any other person than who she actually saw. 

It was Wilson. He was standing by the door frame with a piece of damp cloth in his hand and a rectangle bottle in the other. His expression was neutral, he didn’t have his glasses on and was wearing a gray overcoat with a tie. He lowered himself to her lever, staying silent. He grabbed the cup and unscrew the bottle, carefully measured the quantity of liquid with the bottle’s cap and then dropped it in the tea. Wilson pushed back the cup to her as he closed the bottle. Finally he handed her the cloth.

“Your fever needs to go down, place it on your forehead and drink the whole tea, it’s going to help you.” he said.   


Willow wasn’t about to listen to him, he just poured whatever it was in the tea, what could even be his intentions? He wanted to sell her, why would she listen to him.    
When the witch didn’t grab the piece of fabric, Wilson gave up, he put it on the ground and held the bottle up to her. It read “Cough and Cold Cure” around the picture of a man with a beard looking to the side. Once she looked up at the scientist, he took that as a sign she’d understood and left.

Leaving Willow confused more than anything, she slowly took the warm drink, the medecin did alter the taste, but the fruits hid most of it to her. She finished the tea quickly, having something hot to drink, even if tea wasn’t her favorite, was something she missed deeply. She then took the cloth piece, she didn’t want to have it on her face, it was wet and she hated it, so she opted to clean her feet and hands with it, she felt better afterwards, not perfectly clean, but still less dirty than she was, she went back to sleep.

\---

The next day, When she woke up, Willow felt better, probably because of the medecine she took last night. The rain had stopped and the sun was lighting the pantry with a cozy light in the early hours of the morning. Not long after, the door behind her opened again and Wilson entered the pantry. This time he brought her tea again and some food, showed her that he dropped the medecin in her tea again and left. Willow ate, but was starting to wonder more and more what was happening. She tried to get up and walk for a bit, she stopped at the window and looked outside for the rest of the morning.

When noon came, Wilson showed up again, taking away her empty plate and cup before coming back with a new one filled with soup. Willow didn’t move, he placed the bowl down and left once again. She drank the soup, it was good. She still wasn’t quite sure what was in there, but the vegetables married perfectly with the meat he chose to put in there. The rest of her afternoon, she looked around the pantry, trying to find something interesting to burn or simply to distract herself. She’d try opening the door, and it was still locked, the Window didn’t open. 

When the sun was setting, Wilson brought her another dish of food, this time some mashed potatoes and a little piece of meat. Before he could leave though, she asked:   


“Why?”

The question made the man stop in his track. he looked behind his shoulder to her before responding.

“I’ll bring us tea later tonight, we’ll talk there.”

Without waiting for an answer, he left.

Hours seemed to pass waiting for him, Willow had to know what was going to happen to her. She felt like he was only taking care of her sickness to after sell her out and have a higher reward for capturing a healthy witch. Usually, when someone catches an adult witch it shows their devotion and expertise at the task at hand, that’s probably what he’s waiting for. Watching the milk light of the mood, slowly flood the room was comforting, how many more nights would she enjoy? She couldn’t really tell. Might as a well live the little pleasure of life while you still can.

The door opened, and Wilson entered with two cups. He sat down next to the door, and pushed the other cup in front of him, waiting for her to sit. Willow slowly made her way to him, sitting cross legged on the wooden floor next to her bed where some of the sheets were stained black by the charcoal. The tea smelled more like spices today, she didn’t really like it, but she would never turn her nose to a warm beverage. They stayed in silence for a while, drinking. Until Wilson broke the silence.

“What do you want to know?.”

Willow stayed silent, thinking of what to ask first and how to ask it, “Why are you keeping me here?”

He sipped his tea, “You’re sick.”

“Are you going to sell me out when I’m healthy?”

“No.”

“Why? You could have mone-”

“They suspect me for the prison break.”

Both stayed silent. Willow was more interested in his story than drinking tea now.

“How? Why? You live literally in the middle of nowhere!”

“Apparently, someone saw me sneaking around the prison late at night, they didn’t see me enter it, so the guards couldn’t search my house. I showed them the pentagram you drew and told them it happened overnight while I was sleeping, but I doubt they believed me entirely. Bringing you back to them would be too suspicious after that lie.”

“So I’m free to go?”

“No, I still need you, but we need to find an agreement.”

That really helped clean up the situation! Thanks! She thought she could finally go, and yet this idiot wants to keep her longer and do whatever experiment he needs with her as a sort of test subject. She really didn’t have a choice, once again. 

“Agreement on what. Do you really think I want to stay here?”

“I can tell that you don’t. That’s why I need to explain things.” he stopped, adjusting his glasses on his nose and taking a bit of tea. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have treated you like this, I thought witches were just, I don’t know honestly. When you collapsed, I thought you were bluffing at first, but when I realized you weren’t moving and you had a very bad fever, I… I realized that you’re still human. Human physically I mean, even if I don’t believe in magic I figured that in a way I thought you were inhuman and could overcome whatever you had. And I’m sorry for that. I brought inside and helped you drink and eat for the first day until you woke up.” 

Willow let out a smug little sneer before drinking more tea. 

“Glad to know I’m physically not a monster or whatever.” she coughs, “So what’s that all for? Gaining my trust?” 

“Just respecting my oath. I can’t let someone die like that.”

They were going in circles now. 

“So, what kind of agreement do you want?”

Wilson straightened his posture, “Since people are looking for you for now, I offer you a roof over your head and something to eat everyday. In exchange, I need you to perform the spell I ask and let me document the process and the ritual needed to better understand “magic”. When the search has died down, I will let you go and you’ll be free to live your life wherever you want, you’ll never hear from me again. I’ll let you roam around the house but every spell will be performed either outside or in the shed, that way I have an alibi if they come back looking for you.” 

That was a good deal, depending on how long they would be looking for her, it could be years or even a few weeks. Either way, it was better than living on the road with nothing until she could find a home. There was only one thing.   
  
“I want a bed.”

“Of course! I’ll try to get you one in the shed and-”   
“No. I want a bed here in your house. The shed is cold and dusty, I don’t want to stay there. I don’t care if you even give me a bed right here in this pantry, I just want somewhere comfortable to sleep in this house.”

He signed, “Alright, it’s a deal then?” 

“I’m not finished.” the witch said firmly, letting out a cough, she continued. “You have to trust me on the ingredients I ask for the spell you want. I can’t perform anything if you don’t bring me what I need and I’ll need your book.”

Wilson immediately got up, gesturing to her to follow him out of the pantry. With weak legs, she followed him through the kitchen and into the living room. There was one single window and the rest of the wall was covered from floor to ceiling with books and documents all well organized in shelves. The tiny room seemed to suffocate under them, but it gave it a sort of personal feeling. Willow had never seen so many books in the same place, she rarely went to libraries, and the coven, even with their big collection of spell books, was never as big as this man’s personal collection. It was, franckly amazing to see, so much knowledge in one place was an impressive thing to witness. 

While Willow was in awe of the room, Wilson handed her the book. She took it and examined it carefully. The cover seemed legit, nothing saying it was a spell book from the outside, but immediately when she opened it, she wanted to scream. 

Every single spell where fake, crafted by one guy she doesn’t even know about, the preface said he studied witches and wizards for years to write this book, but only by the glossary, she could tell this man didn’t know what he was doing. At all. 

She looked at the fireplace being her, the fire was lit but weak. “Okay, you know what?”

“What?” responded Wilson.

Without hesitation, Willow threw the book in the fire, giving it life. “This book’s a scam, you’re not going to do any magic with it!”

Wilson, not listening to what she just said, started to scream and hurried to get the book out of the flames, extinguishing the remains with his foot.

“What’s wrong with you?! This is the only witchcraft book I have! Even if it’s not totally accurate, there’s certainly something in it that’s useful!”

“Trust me, there isn’t.” said the witch, “Unless you were very lucky, you’ll never get your hand on a real spell book. They’re passed down through generations or coven’s for years.” 

Quick to bring two and two together, the scientist turned to Willow, almost asking the question with his eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” Willow answered the unspoken question, “I know where we can get one.”

\---

The headmaster spent days looking for her, and still nothing, he was getting desperate. His guards looked everywhere, even the woods and the villages near and yet nothing. It was as if the prisoner vanished.    
  
Even if the search was unsuccessful, his ideas to get her back weren't. Pacing around in his office, he was waiting for the guards to come back with what he asked.

Prisoner #8567, The spell witch.

She could help them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back! 
> 
> I am terribly sorry for the lack of update! The last few months have been hard on me, but I'm better now! 
> 
> Also happy new year! I hope you enjoy this new chapter! 
> 
> The art for this one is made by my friend Pacia! Here's her tumblr! 
> 
> https://fullmetalpiglet.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was a ride!
> 
> first time trying my hand at a slow burn I hope I'll be able to pull this!  
> I've been reading a lot lately and I've been inspired to write this as a result! c:
> 
> I'll try to update once a month, maybe more if I’m inspired, but I don't want to promise anything.
> 
> The amazing drawing at the end of the chapter was made by my friend Pierogi, here's her tumblr: https://0pierogi.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks to all the people that inspired me and helped me with this first chapter, and of course thanks to you for reading it! :D


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